Recovery
by Bishie Huntress
Summary: Ed is recovering in the hospital, but what's with the dream? Ed, Roy, Minimal Al. Complete, folks.


Ed was dreaming. He knew it, and yet, he seemed unable to wake up. There were times he was sure he was awake, but he'd fall back into his odd dream again and realize that he'd never really woken in the first place.

Ed knew he was dreaming because he was being followed around by a talking horse. Unless this was some bizarre chimera, it was definitely a dream.

He strode quickly down the dungeon corridor, accompanied by his (talking!) horse and at least a dozen warriors. The stone walls seemed like they should have been damp, but there was no visible moisture. The grey bricks were smooth, sometimes mossy, and a dark, worn color. Their footsteps were oddly silent on the stone floor, but the creak of leather armor and the odd clank and rattle from metal rings and weapons and the like surrounded them as they moved.

It wasn't long before they reached a thick, metal door, likely steel and covered with reinforcing lengths of metal held in place by matching steel rivets. This whole thing was downright medieval, Ed mused.

"Alright, men! Listen up!" Mustang said at the head of the group. Since when had the bastard joined them? In his dream state, Ed brushed the anomaly aside. "We've got to go in here and defeat this thing. This is what we'll do…"

Mustang probably continued for a bit, but in that odd way dreams do, Ed's mind ignored the boring parts as if they'd happened, and the scenery changed. Now he stood in a large, dark room. It was rectangular, longer than it was wide, and a thin stone bridge crossed from one side to the other in the middle of the room. This was where Ed stood. He assumed he'd gotten here by way of the narrow, chainmail-like bridge that ran from an open door to bisect the bridge. Behind Ed was dark nothingness that he ignored without worry. In front of him, a battle raged.

He could see that the open door was the same steel one he'd stood in front of only moments ago. The warriors who had entered with him ranged from a narrow ledge that ran along the wall inside the door, across the strange metal bridge held aloft by unlikely-looking slender chains that stretched to the walls, and along the stone bridge he stood upon. Torches held aloft flickered wildly as the men battled a creature that dwelled in the murky water that lay a good eight to ten feet below them.

The greenish-black surface of the water was broken by dozens of gigantic tentacles flailing madly through the air, knocking a man off the ledge by the door, grabbing at another on the bridge, who clung desperately to the supporting chain. A second warrior lunged forward, slicing through the restraining tentacle with his sword, and the first nearly fell into the water below as he was suddenly freed. He was pulled back onto the swaying bridge by others, gasping for air as they unwrapped the clutching end of the tentacle and shoved it back into the brackish water.

The creature didn't take this injury well. A strangely muffled, piercing shriek rang through the room, echoing off the surrounding walls, and the body of the beast emerged. A huge, squid-like head surfaced, its eyes – each as big around as Ed's head – rolling wildly and a beak on the front of its face clicking madly. It lashed out with its tentacles in all directions, and the warriors were hard-pressed to hold it off.

Ed lifted his bow and shot at the creature, and it swung its head around to focus on him, sending two appendages flailing in his direction. Ed dodged the one, but would surely have been caught by the other if his talking horse friend hadn't kicked it aside at the last possible moment.

It was at this point that Ed felt himself pulled a bit from his slumber, and his mind put aside the dream for a moment. The sterile walls of a hospital room came into focus around him, a flat, lifeless pillow pretended to support his head, and his brother slept on a chair next to him, leaning forward to rest his head on the bed and drool on Ed's blanket. How becoming.

He glanced idly around, noting some yellow flowers on the windowsill that framed a darkened window – still night, then – and a glass of water on a small table, as well as a sandwich that had been nibbled upon. Someone probably tried to feed Al. That was good, then.

Ed felt sleep pulling him back under – probably thanks to some kind of medication – and grabbed his brother's hand reassuringly before the strange dream took him back over. His eyes fell shut, and the dream was waiting.

Some time seemed to have passed, but not much. The soldiers were weary, his horse heaving for air. Ed no longer held a bow, but rather a sword. In his still half-aware mind, he wondered if his subconscious kept the dream going while he was awake, like a book being read while he was out of the room.

Ed stood uselessly at the middle of the room (or the back, depending on how one looked at it – nothing was happening in the space behind him, still) as the men around him battled for their lives. There had to be something he could do! Ed was not a useless kind of person, after all.

Before his dream-clogged mind could find a solution, he looked up to see Mustang running along the treacherous surface of one of the tentacles that had grabbed onto the metal bridge in an attempt to shake off the men standing there. He ran right up to the head of the creature, leaped impossibly into the air, and came down in a rush of blazing energy, great sword piercing through the monster's head with a spray of ichor and other unnamable fluids. Ed was faintly nauseated.

The squid-kraken-thing screeched, thrashing violently and turning the water to froth around it. Mustang lost his grip and his footing and was thrown forcefully against the wall, hitting it with a resounding _thud_ before sliding into the murky water.

"No! Mustang!" he shouted, struggling against the hold his horse somehow had on him.

"What is it, Ed?" the horse asked.

"Mustang! I have to save him!" Ed broke free of his horse's grasp, only to fall into the water, also, the death throes of the squid monster catching him and sending him underwater. He inhaled a lungful, feeling himself suffocating, and struggled madly to find the surface through the gloomy water. He was surprised when he broke through the surface and inhaled, feeling the pressure on his lungs ease. What was he doing again?

Right. Mustang! Damn bastard. Who did he think he was, trying to die? The creature had disappeared – _sunk_, his dream helpfully supplied – and Ed struggled to swim toward the last place he saw Roy. It seemed to take forever, far longer than it should, at any rate, but at last, he made it. Not seeing any sign of the man, he took a deep breath and dove under.

The scene changed on him again, and Ed knew he wasn't in the same water. This was clear and blue, a healthy clean that was easy to see through. Also, there were no dungeon walls in sight. The surface was nowhere to be seen, either, and Ed experienced a brief moment of panic, sure he would drown. Then, a beautiful mermaid swam up to him.

It was smaller than he thought it should be, in the way he imagined fairies and pixies might be, though bigger than those. It was perhaps three feet in length, though it was a perfect miniature of a fully adult woman – well, the upper half was, of course. It – _she_ – leaned in and kissed him gently on the lips, and Ed knew he would be able to breathe just fine, so he did. His panic eased and he looked around in amazement.

Everything was blue, blue, _blue_, and sunlight filtered down clearly from far above. Wide open water surrounded him in every direction, and the occasional flash of a fish swimming by caught his eye. Below him, lit up with dozens of lights, was an underwater city. Small domes of air were connected by unprotected bridges, light, airy structures that seemed at one with the waterscape around them. He marveled at the strangeness and felt a certain sense of awe as more of the mermaids rose to greet him.

"Come with us," they were saying, grabbing at his clothing with small, slender fingers. He was pulled, unresisting, down and through the top of one of the bubble domes. He floated to the ground inside as if he was still in water, but he knew air surrounded him. When he reached the ground, he saw that the mermaids had followed him, but now stood, naked and unashamed, next to him. He understood that passing through into this place allowed them to temporarily exchange their fish tails for human legs.

They pulled at Ed again, leading him down a grass-covered path through a maze of bright coral. "Come!" they said again. "You must see!"

When they emerged from the coral maze, Ed found himself on a wide swathe of grass. Cushions were heaped in the center, and the mermaids around him flocked to join the ones already on the cushions, squealing and cooing. The part of Ed that wasn't quite immersed in the dream was mildly disgusted by their behavior.

He walked closer and found Mustang lounging in the midst of the mermaids and even his dream self rolled its eyes.

"You have better things to do," he said when he reached the edge of the fawning mer-creatures. "Hawkeye is waiting for you to finish your paperwork."

At the mention of Hawkeye, the mermaids scattered in fright, dashing through the air as if they could swim through it, and disappearing through the barrier the bubble made. Mustang was pouting.

"You're no fun, Fullmetal," he said, then shrugged and stood up. Ed took a step forward, and they were in the stone corridor again, outside the same steel door.

Curious, Ed opened it up, but everyone had gone – even his talking horse – and the room was quiet, the water still once more. He shut the door, ready to move on, but even as he did, movement registered. He paused, looking to see if Mustang had noticed, but the man was oblivious. With his insatiable curiosity driving him, Ed opened the door once more, peering through the shadows beyond.

There! Light from the hallway gleamed off the smooth surface of something vaguely humanoid as it started to slowly rise from the water. Thinking that maybe shutting the door halted the process, Ed shut it hurriedly, looking at Mustang with wide eyes. Mustang looked back silently, the expression of fear odd and out of place on the normally controlled features.

Without even speaking about it, the two of them moved quickly away and out of the dungeon into daylight. They knew it was only a matter of time until the creature that was spawned from the death of the other came searching for its mother's vanquisher.

Ed was pulled from his slumber once again by an obnoxious beeping. The door leading to the hallway was cracked open and nurses rushed hither and yon as an alarm sounded. Al was nowhere in sight. Ed rolled over and closed his eyes, but his bladder needed relieved. _Badly._ Heaving an internal sigh, Ed pulled himself from the bed and staggered his way toward the door in the corner of the room, knowing it led to a small bathroom. He nearly fell a couple times, the drugs in his system making themselves known.

Flipping on the light and shutting the door behind him, Ed turned to the small toilet and relieved himself, grimacing at the faded hospital gown that kept trying to get in the way. Perhaps he should've sat down, but it was too late for that, now. Bracing his hand against the wall, Ed leaned forward and flushed, and it was only as the water swirled down the drain that he realized he was really awake. Finally. He made quick work of washing his hands, thinking back on his dream.

Opening the door, Ed stepped back into his room and eyed the bed. He wanted to know what happened next in his dream, and he was sure that if he were to lie back down, he'd have no trouble picking up about where he'd left off. However, the thought of that creature emerging from the water filled him with a vague kind of horror. He knew, somehow, that the monster being born was more cunning and intelligent than its mother, and therefore more dangerous. He also knew it was just a dream, and that his medicine was affecting his perception, but he couldn't help the fear that floated aimlessly through him.

Resolved, Ed made his unsteady way over to Al's chair and sat, tucking the blasted hospital gown around himself and pulling the blanket off the bed to cover his legs. Despite his best efforts, Ed fell back asleep, dreaming some strange kind of continuation of his dream that involved spaghetti and meatballs that had to be fed to the new monster. He only woke when someone shook his arm.

"Fullmetal," came a quiet voice. "Wake up."

"Nng… But the s'ghetti monster…"

"The what? Fullmetal!" There came that incessant shaking again.

Ed opened bleary eyes. "Huuuhhh?"

A chuckle answered him as Roy Mustang himself came into focus.

"'S not right," he slurred. "Mermaids're all gone."

"I think you're still dreaming," Mustang said with amusement. "Why don't you just get into bed and go back to sleep?"

"No!" Ed almost whined. "Dun wanna sleep. Had 'nuffa that."

"Alright, well… You're going to get a nasty crick in your neck if you lay like that much longer. Trust me."

Ed lifted his head, mildly annoyed to know that Mustang was right. "Not fair," he grumbled woozily as he tried to stand. "Yer always righ' about everthing. Not fair." His feet caught around each other, and he almost fell over. After a moment, he realized the only thing keeping him upright was Mustang. Roy had caught him with an arm around his waist, and Ed was pressed up against his chest, his face smooshed into the older man's shoulder. He tried to talk, but it came out a garbled mess.

Roy helped him stand upright, albeit unsteadily. "What was that?" he asked.

As Ed sat slowly on the edge of the hospital bed, he mumbled, "You smell good. No wonder th'ladies like ya s'much…"

Roy chuckled quietly. "You're never gonna live this down. You realize that, right?"

"Wha'ver." Ed waved him off and swayed, nearly toppling off the bed. Again, Mustang saved him from one kind of embarrassment by serving him another kind.

"S… Sop it." Ed paused. "Stop it," he tried again. "I _hate_ this medicine!" He pushed Mustang away and fell back against his flattened pillow.

Roy helped him get his legs up onto the bed and under the covers. "Al should be back soon," he said as he did so. "He had to leave to meet Winry at the station."

Ed frowned, trying to figure this out. His automail was working just fine when he'd stumbled into the bathroom earlier. "Win… Winry? Why? Not... 'M fine."

"Edward..." There was a long pause, and Ed tried to focus on Roy standing over him. "Winry is your friend. She cares about you."

Ed smiled goofily. "Yeah…"

"You were hurt pretty badly, Edward. You lost a lot of blood. We weren't sure you would wake up."

Ed tried to wrap his mind around that. "Had to," he said at last, frowning. "The kraken… was really creepy. And you… and the mermaids…" He frowned. He knew it was just a dream, but he still felt so affected by it.

Mustang's lips quirked, threatening a smile. "I can assure you there is no kraken around here. And there are no mermaids, unfortunately."

"Man… whore." Ed's head fell back and he fought to keep his eyes open.

To his surprise, Mustang laughed. "If you say so, Edward."

"Yup…" As much as Ed fought against it, he could feel the dark tendrils of sleep wrapping around him to pull him under again.

"You're recovering better than the doctors expected," Roy was saying. "They're going to lower your dose of medication, so the next time you wake up, you should feel more aware."

"Good," Ed murmured, and maybe it was a part of his next dream that a large, warm hand covered his reassuringly for a moment, but he didn't think so.

* * *

**AN: **Well, this was... interesting. You'll have to tell me what you think! :) Please. Go. Do it now. Seriously. It's right below this message. One word, or three. Or a hundred, idc. You know you want to!... So, in order to NOT disappoint this faithful(-ish) author, leave some words of critique and support. You won't regret it! Maybe I'll even stop writing this really pointless author's note if you do... Hrm...

Oh! So, I have a question: Why do people put your story on follow, when it's clearly marked "Complete"? I don't get that. If I put this thing as complete, it's not a chapter fic. There's no point following it. You can follow me, if you want. If I write more, it would be a separate fic, entirely. (BTW, I love that thing AO3 does with the collections. FFN totally needs that. XD)

I have another question: Did anybody actually read all that? XD

To my lovely Guest (in case you come back looking for an answer; unfortunately, I can only really respond well to reviewers who sign in): First of all, thank you for reading (the whole thing!) and taking a moment to review. In regard to your questions, the answer "Because it's a dream" is really unsatisfying, despite its all-encompassing and accurate nature. XD So. Who isn't afraid of Hawkeye when she's on the warpath? Roy is. XD As for the spaghetti and meatballs, well, don't you like them? I do! I imagine it was the only thing to appease the monster and keep it from eating Roy, since he killed its "mother". FYI, there had to be meatballs. Without them, the monster would surely have devoured the mighty (and sopping wet; see "The Button" XD) Flame Alchemist. I hope that helps! Please feel free to PM me with any further questions! I love discussing my stories. (Narcissism at its finest, I suppose. Oh, well!)

BH


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